


jealous is the night when the morning comes

by leigh_adams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Community: smutty_claus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Post-Divorce, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh_adams/pseuds/leigh_adams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s her first Christmas as a divorcée. That doesn’t mean Ginny has to spend the night alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	jealous is the night when the morning comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nutmeg44](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutmeg44/gifts).



> Many thanks to mugglechump for her beta work, and for being one of my biggest supporters. This was written as a gift for nutmeg_44 for the 2015 Smutty Claus exchange at LiveJournal.

Christmas was a special time for the Weasley family. Every year, no matter what, all of the family members would converge on the Burrow for three days of food, family, and fun. Sometimes fighting, but that tended to happen between the Weasleys under the age of five, arguing over who took so and so's doll or broomstick. It was a special holiday tradition, one of Ginny's favorites.

This year, though, the Weasley family Christmas celebration had been moved to Parkinson Manor. And that was just _weird_.

Yes, it was true, the Burrow was falling down around her parents' ears. After a few too many incidents involving collapsing ceilings and disappearing doors, Arthur had broken down and hired a contractor to take a look at the house. That man, a Mr. Herrick Henrickson of Henrick's Home Repairs, had taken one look at the ramshackle home and run off down the lane, screaming in horror.

The second contractor, a nondescript gentleman by the name of Mr. Green, had simply informed the Weasleys that the charms on their home were no longer strong enough to hold. They were lucky the house hadn't simply collapsed on top of them.

So Ron, being the thoughtful youngest son, invited his parents to stay with him and his wife until the renovations were done. 

Ginny would have emptied her Gringotts vault to be a fly on the wall during _that_ conversation. For one, Ron was still technically a newlywed -- he'd only been married eight months! And after that, it was no secret that of all Molly Weasley's daughters-in-law, Pansy Parkinson was her least favorite. But they did have the most spare rooms, and so in moved Arthur and Molly. 

And _that_ was how Pansy Parkinson-Weasley came to host all twenty members of the extended Weasley family for Christmas.

It was supposed to be a happy time. And for the most part, it was. Ginny truly enjoyed Christmas. It was her favorite holiday, even beating out Opening Day for the British and Irish League. As she'd married and had children of her own, it gave her great pleasure to see that same love of Christmas reflected in her children.

Life wasn't always perfect, though, and her perfect, fairy tale love had faded into memory. The spark she and Harry had once shared wasn't there anymore. When she'd asked him, quietly in a resigned tone, for a divorce, he'd seemed _relieved_. They'd both known their marriage was at an end, but neither had wanted to be the one to close the book. Lily was only five, after all, and they didn't want to put their children through all that.

They were both surprised. The children had seemed to take it remarkably well. In the six months that passed, they shuffled between Grimmauld Place and the cottage Ginny bought near Ottery St. Catchpole. It wasn't easy, but they had made it work so far. 

Of everyone in the family, Molly and Ron had taken it the hardest.

_That_ was not helping make Ginny's Christmas Eve any easier. The children had all been put to bed a few hours ago, with promises that Santa Claus would come see them just as soon as they were asleep. It was nearly midnight by the time Ginny climbed the sweeping staircase to find her bedroom in the guest wing. All evening long, she'd tried to ignore her brother's pointed looks and hints. She'd been seated next to Harry at dinner, and Ron had even put him in the bedroom next to hers. He couldn't have been any clearer that he was trying to shove them back together. 

"You'd have thought _he_ was the one divorcing, not us," she muttered to herself as she trudged down the long, carpeted hallway to her bedroom. _He'd_ gotten off easy. He'd never married his Hogwarts sweetheart, not after Hermione decided to travel the world after finishing school. She'd run into Viktor Krum in Bulgaria... and that had been that. Ron had enjoyed long years of bachelorhood until Parkinson had hexed him into marrying her. (At least, that was Ginny's version of the story). 

All in all, it had been a long night. Ginny was very much looking forward to falling face first into the ridiculously large feather mattress and sleeping until her children jumped on her before the sun rose. Smiling at the thought, she opened her bedroom door, flicked on the lights -- and groaned in annoyance.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Draco Malfoy -- for indeed, Draco sodding Malfoy was stretched out atop her bed, looking far too much at home -- smirked and propped himself up on his elbow. "Women would kill to have me waiting in their bed, yet you, Weasley, don't realize your good fortune."

"Good fortune would be a bubble bath and five hours of uninterrupted sleep." Shutting the door behind her, Ginny toed off her shoes and kicked them into the corner. " _Not_ a poncy ferret acting as if he owns my bedroom."

A blonde brow rose. "Technically, this is Pansy's bedroom --"

"Ugh. Don't remind me."

"And I was _trying_ to do something nice. For once in my supposedly wretched, rotten life."

"How's that working out for you?"

"I'll let you know in the morning." In a fluid, elegant movement, Draco slid off the bed and crossed the room to where she stood. His hands slid over her hips, and he lowered his lips to kiss her neck softly. 

Her eyes slid shut, and she felt her pulse speed up. "No you won't," she breathed. "You can't stay."

Draco trailed his lips up her neck to her jaw, alternating between soft kisses and gentle nibbles, a hint of teeth. "Is that any way you greet your boyfriend on Christmas?" he murmured. His long fingers toyed with the ties on her green wrap dress, slowly undoing the knot that held it closed. 

Despite herself, her lips curled in a soft smirk. "Boyfriend?"

"I believe that was your term for it, yes."

"I was drunk, Draco --"

"On one glass of wine."

She swatted at his shoulder. "Shut up. Your alcohol tolerance plummets after you give birth. And I _know_ you know that, because you've got a kid."

"Fortunately, I did not have to carry and deliver my son," he reminded her."His mother handled that for me."

Ginny blinked and opened her eyes. Shaking her head, she forced herself to move away from his very nice lips and warm hands. "Same thing. You still can't stay here."

"Why not?" he challenged. "Merlin, Weasley, it's not like we're sixth years sneaking around after curfew. We're consenting adults."

She held up a finger. "My divorce isn't final yet."

"Neither is mine," he reminded her. "That hasn't stopped Astoria from dating. _In public_. Some blonde arse of a Hufflepuff, works for the Ministry. Scorpius, the little traitor, is enamored with him."

Ginny held up another finger. "My ex-husband is sleeping right next door." She cast a pointed look at the far wall, where only a few feet of concrete and wood separated her and Harry.

Draco snorted. "Is he still trying to force you and Potter together? Hoping you'll see the error of your ways, and that a night of passion will open your eyes to reconciliation?"

"That's... about it, yeah."

"He's an idiot."

"This is not news." She sat down at the dressing table and began to remove her jewelry. Earrings and necklace were sat on the polished black table next to her perfume bottle. Her hands felt naked without her ring, even though she had stopped wearing it months ago when she gave it back to Harry. Closing her eyes, Ginny took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. No one had told her how bloody hard it was going to be to be divorced.

She felt Draco move behind her and place his hands lightly on her shoulder. Long fingers began to rub at her muscles, working small circles into her tense neck and upper arms. And _this_. How was she supposed to handle _this_? Draco was snarky and cynical. He was an arse to the highest degree, albeit an arse that gave top notch orgasms. He wasn't _sweet_. He didn't give shoulder rubs. He made snide comments about Harry, her red hair, her family -- particularly Ron. 

"I'm serious," she told him, biting back a sigh when his fingers hit a knot in her shoulders. "You can't stay. The kids will be in here at half past five, wanting to see what Santa brought them." She could only imagine what sort of scene that would cause, her three hellions bursting in to find their Mummy naked and in bed with a strange man. The screams would bring the entire manor running into her bedroom, and wouldn't _that_ be a lovely Christmas scenario?

"Alright." He leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of her neck. "I'll leave before the sun comes up. As long as _I'm_ the first one to wish you a happy Christmas."

"Were you possessed by a demon this week?" she murmured. "I can't think of any other explanation for this sudden change in personality."

"Can't a man do nice things for the woman he's seeing?" Draco queried, fingers moving up to her temples. The slight pressure there was calming, and she felt her muscles relax in response. 

"We're not seeing one another. Remember?" 

"Not yet. But the day the ink is dry on your divorce papers, I am taking you to dinner, and the world be damned."

Her lips twitched. It sounded so simple, but nothing was simple. She had three children to think of, and Merlin knew she wasn't ready to introduce another man in their lives. "Why are you so insistent on going out in public together? Are you trying to make another woman jealous?"

"Oh, I'm sure there'll be plenty of jealous women after you're seen on my arm," he replied conversationally. "But the thing is, Gin -- and if you tell anyone this, I'll deny it to my last breath -- I like being with you. You make me happy, and unless you're _that_ good an actress -- which is doubtful -- I make you happy, too."

"You really have been possessed, haven't you?"

Draco shrugged. "Of course, we have mind blowing sex. That doesn't hurt, either."

"Aaaaaand we're back to normal." Ginny opened her eyes to look at Draco's reflection in the mirror, crinkling her nose. "I suppose the sex makes it easier to deal with your receding hairline."

He glared down at her. "Oy! That was a vile rumor printed by that Skeeter woman. My hairline is just as it should be, and decidedly _not_ receding."

She smirked. That had been a sore spot since it'd been printed in the gossip rags early in the summer. It was just too much fun not to recycle and bring up again. And again. And again. It got a reaction _every time_.

"Well, receding hairline or not, you can't stay," she reminded him. "Harry is right next door."

"Have you lost the ability to cast a functioning Silencing Charm?" Sliding his hands down over her shoulders, his long fingers moved teasingly over her chest, ghosting over the vee of skin exposed by her dress. "Or we could give Potter a proper show. Perhaps he might learn a trick or two on how to please a woman..."

"Ha bloody ha." 

She should have been firm. She should have told him to go. It was a bad idea, him being here in her room. What if Lily had a nightmare and came looking for Mummy? What if Harry _did_ hear them? Or worse, what if _Ron_ did? But she was tired, dammit. She was tired of her own family acting like _she_ was the villain. As if she’d broken poor Harry's heart -- which she bloody well _hadn’t_ , thank you very much. Never mind _her_ own heart, which had been ignored in the process. And with Draco... Merlin help her, but _he_ made her feel that spark she'd been missing -- only it wasn't a spark at all. It was an inferno burning hot. She might go down in flames with it, but selfishly, she didn't care.

So when his hand slid underneath her dress to cup her breast, she sighed and leaned back, her head tilting to rest on his stomach. "Fine," she murmured. "You win. Take me to bed, Malfoy."

"That wasn't _quite_ the enthusiasm I was looking for, Weasley," he replied softly, fingertips tweaking her nipple. Ginny made a noise high in her throat, and her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, and his smile predatory. The hand not cupping her breast moved to the tie on her dress, and he finished the job he'd begun earlier and tugged it open. 

Draco's hands found hers, tugging her out of the chair and into his arms. As she stood, the dress gaped open and left a line of skin and lingerie open to his eyes. The sight was not lost on him, and Ginny felt her skin prickle in awareness as his gaze slid over her breasts and stomach, then back up again. 

"But we'll get there." He tugged her dress down, and it slithered to the floor silently, pooling around Ginny's bare feet. She sighed in contentment as he moved his hands over her side and around to her back, fingers splaying out on her skin. His touch was warm and comforting -- though that was _never_ a word she'd have associated with Draco Malfoy before. She was so caught up in the sensation that she didn't even notice when his fingers undid the clasp on her bra. 

Tipping her head back to look at him, she reached for his belt as he pushed the silky material down her arms. "You're overdressed," she commented. It was only fair that he be just as naked as she.

"So are you." Bending, Draco scooped her into his arms and crossed the few steps to the ornate bed. With a smirk, he unceremoniously dumped her atop the duvet, ignoring her squeak of protest. 

Ginny glared at him as she bounced on top of the bed, her arm banding over her breasts to keep them from flopping around. "Oy, Malfoy, careful with the wobbly bits!"

"I don't see any wobbly bits," he retorted as he tugged off his jumper and undershirt, tossing them across the room. "Just my dead sexy girlfriend wearing nothing but knickers, practically _begging_ me to shag her senseless."

"Begging? I don't know if I'd go _that_ far..." Her gaze flickered to his bare chest and down to his belt, and she lifted one eyebrow in challenge. "If I'm begging, though... lose the trousers, Malfoy."

"So impatient," Draco commented idly, ducking his head as he worked the buckle on his belt. A loose lock of blonde hair fell over his forehead, hiding his gaze from hers, and not for the first time was Ginny struck by how bloody _pretty_ he was. He wasn't handsome -- his features were too fine for that. But pretty -- that word was more appropriate. of course, she'd never actually _tell_ him that, but it was something she could keep to herself. 

Belt and trousers loose, Draco pushed them down his legs and kicked them away before hopping up onto the bed next to her. He flicked her nipple with two fingers and ducked away when she swatted at him. 

"Keep that up, Malfoy, and I'll push you out the window," she threatened. 

"You wouldn't dare." Shifting onto all fours, he crawled over the bed until he loomed over her, his body caging hers in. Lips curling in a smirk, he added, "Besides, if you did that, who would do _this_?" He leaned down and ran his tongue over her breast before drawing the tip between his lips and sucking softly. 

Ginny moaned. "Someone else, I'm sure," she managed to reply on an exhale, whimpering in pleasure as he trailed kisses across her chest to give her other breast similar treatment. It was a lie, of course. She'd had no intention of falling into bed so soon after her divorce. She blamed the tequila -- at least for the first time. The subsequent times were just products of her inability to fend off a handsome man with a talented tongue.

"Liar." He skimmed one hand down her side to her hip. Fingers curling in the side of her knickers, he drew them down her legs and tugged them off, tossing them out of the way. Leaving the discarded scrap of silk at the foot of the bed, he let his touch ghost over her legs, teasing the inside of her calf before traveling up past her knee and toward her inner thigh. Ginny's stomach quivered in anticipation. She could almost feel his touch _there_ , where her blood ran hot and she ached to feel his hands.

But he didn't stop there. No, the bastard moved to her lower belly, tracing circles just above the vee of ginger hair at the apex of her thighs. 

"Malfoy, I swear, I will _murder_ you if you don't --"

"If I don't _what_ , Gin?" His hand stilled, and he pulled back to look up her body at her. Mischief played in his eyes, full of the knowledge of just what he was doing to her. "Do you want me to lick you until you scream my name?" His hand moved then, inching lower. His gaze held hers, and he asked, "Do you want me inside you? Leisurely making love, or a hard and fast fucking?"

" _Yes_ ," she whimpered when the tip of one long finger slipped between her legs, pressing lightly on her swollen nub. It made her hips jerk, and she wanted _more_. "You. In me. _Now_."

Draco's lips curled in satisfaction, and he slipped two fingers inside of her, seeking out the wetness he was sure was waiting. And it was -- Ginny had been ready for him since she'd seen him laid out on her bed. _Dammit_.

She made a sound of protest when his hands moved away from her body, but then he was spreading her legs and pressing his hips against hers. Holding himself back, he said, "Last chance to cast that Silencing Charm, Weasley."

Ginny smiled, and there was nothing innocent about it. "No Silencing Charm." 

Home. It was all she could think of when he slid inside of her, a groan spilling from his lips when she wrapped her legs around his waist. It was ridiculous, really. This was where they belonged -- in bed. It was hard to imagine a life next to Draco Malfoy outside a bedroom, but _this_. This was right.

He moved his hips, withdrawing almost to the point of slipping out of her before he thrust again. Ginny cried out and clutched at his back, nails leaving little crescent moon indentations in his skin. "Merlin, _fuck yes._ " Her body moved beneath his, falling into an easy, familiar rhythm with his. Sex with Harry had been fun, and most of the time, it had been good. 

Sex with Draco Malfoy, though... 

He never stopped touching her. His hips were always moving, his hands sliding over her skin from her hips to her breasts. His kissed a path up her neck until he captured her own lips. Moving his hands to hers, he linked their fingers together and held them over her head, holding her captive in his arms. Every part of Ginny felt electric, from the tingling in her breasts to the heavy pool in her lower stomach and between her legs. 

Already, she could feel her orgasm creeping up on her. She didn't know how he'd learned how to pleasure her so well, but he hit _that_ spot on every stroke, and it was like dumping a can of fuel on a fire. " _Draco_..."

"That's it, Ginny," he crooned in the crook of her neck. "Let me hear you."

She wanted to hold off, just to spite his sexual prowess. But she was helpless to stop the rising tide. A series of gasps and moans punctuated the slapping of flesh, and then she was falling over the edge with a shuddering cry. " _Ohhhhh_." Her climax sent her limbs trembling, warmth radiating out from her center to the tips of her toes and fingers.

A minute later, Draco threw his head back and groaned her name. His hips ground against hers, and he spilled inside of her. He held himself above her for five seconds, and then with a grunt, collapsed on top of her.

Ginny let out an 'oomph.' "Get off, you lug," she murmured, half-heartedly pushing at his shoulder. 

"Dun wanna," he replied, his voice muffled by her hair. "Comfy."

"Can't breathe."

"Can't talk if you can't breathe."

"Get _off_."

With a groan, Draco rolled to the side, flopping onto his back with a decided lack of grace. "Why didn't we do that ten years ago?" he asked between pants. "We're bloody good at that."

"One, we were both married ten years ago."

"And clearly, _that_ worked out well for both of us."

"Two, we hated each other ten years ago."

Outside the bedroom, she could hear muffled sounds as various siblings and their spouses wished one another a good night. Soft thumps indicated the closing of doors. Somewhere down the corridor, a grandfather clocked chimed the hour. Midnight. Christmas Day. 

"Point taken." He stretched his arms over his head, his mouth gaping open to let out a roaring yawn. Wiggling against the comforter, he rolled onto his side and reached for her, tugging her sweaty body against his. His eyes closed, he nuzzled her cheek and kissed the corner of her lips. "Happy Christmas, Gin."

She softened and turned her head to the side to look at him. She let her hand card through his soft blonde hair, feeling the fine strands between her fingertips. Leaning closer, her lips found his for a soft, slow kiss. "Happy Christmas, Draco.”


End file.
